You Know Best What My Punishment Ought To Be
by L-Fabray
Summary: In a sense, Quinn Fabray thought she didn't deserve to be happy, nor loved – whatever that means. Basically, it was about not believing in happiness or love altogether – at least not as something she could or would achieve.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This story is inspired by many things, which involve the way I see these characters and fiction of my own head – the story is mine, but of course I don't own Glee. It's my first fanfiction ever, while I do read it as often as one can – my favorites list is a proof of that. Also, English is not my primary language, so any mistakes (and there will be many) are mine and I appreciate feedback on that, as well as on the story/character development itself. Since my opinion is that everything in life should have a soundtrack, I highly recommend for this chapter the album There's No Leaving Now, by The Tallest Man On Earth. Both chapters should have an album specifically, because that's how controlling and in need of recommending new music I am.

CHAPTER ONE.

Quinn always knew what she didn't want. She didn't want to live by someone else's expectations of what she would accomplish and how. She didn't want to talk trivial things with people when she doesn't have the slightest interest in their lives.

The thing about Quinn Fabray is that when she finally founds what she wants, she's fucking hopeless about it. First, there's denial – something she's so used to from family gatherings to relationships others interpret as friendship.

Denial is the common ground: in a sense, you could say it's like _home. _Like when you arrive and your father is having his _first _drink, but the bottle that was full yesterday is now empty.

After that, there's hate. Which usually involves a specific target, but could be only a passer by. This step is also connected to the root of the problem – because no hate comes from something that isn't actually inside yourself. Like when your mother says you're not pretty enough based only by looking herself in the mirror.

And lastly, the feeling that always gets her, there's regret – something that has the power of making you sink so low or finally step up and stop what seemed to be an endless cycle. Like every time she calls the girl she thinks is gorgeous by horrible names – and then immediately regrets it because she can never change it or take it back.

Quinn doesn't remember when she started sleeping with Rachel. It could be a week or a month ago, it didn't matter. Mostly because she's damn sure she's doing it because of her pride.

Who wouldn't enjoy having someone when and where you want them? And most important: how you want to have them? Rachel Berry is right now taking a shower in Quinn's bathroom while the blonde is thinking about all these things.

She finally realizes that while she needs all the control during sex, she's the submissive when anything related to her relationship (whatever that was) with Rachel.

The pain she had inside her each time they were together was something that drained her energy. It was mind blowing sex, but what bothered Quinn was trying to figure out how someone so irritating could also make her feel so good and comprehend exactly what her body needed.

It was also a fucking question mark in her brain waiting to be solved.

In a sense, Quinn Fabray thought she didn't deserve to be happy, nor loved – whatever that means. It wasn't because she wasn't a good person or because Rachel deserved better or because she felt guilty about being gay in a Christian family (going to hell and all that).

Basically, it was about not believing in happiness or love altogether – at least not as something she could or would eventually achieve. It was a risk: opening up, giving in, only to be left abandoned somewhere down the road. It was inevitable.

People screw up and lose each other, they raise their expectations, they want compromise. None of that seemed something like she wanted to go through voluntarily – Quinn also didn't even want to consider not being strong enough to get over someone else. Because she knows she isn't.

There it is. The real Quinn Fabray: a coward. Not wanting to try anything because of the paralyzing fear that is failing. There's the process of getting your hopes up, of thinking you almost had something, only to be left with nothing but disappointment.

It happened before and she was fucking sure it would happen again. She couldn't stop, but she had the control to choose what subjects she didn't care that much if she failed.

That's how she got her reputation. She liked dancing when she was a kid, so instead of going to classes and getting better, she tried cheerleading because of how unimportant and irrelevant it was.

Quinn Fabray succeeds at dedicating her time to activities that she isn't passionate about. And that's what she also tells herself about Rachel. If there's no attention to the subject, there's no attachment. Except Rachel is someone she wants, hence the hopeless situation.

When the brunette gets out of the bathroom, the silence agreement comes to life. They talked about how after having sex, Quinn had the tendency of verbally abuse Rachel.

Even Rachel was proud enough not to want that from the same person that was making her cum just minutes ago. Being verbally abused during sex? Fine with her.

You could even not cuddle after it, but you don't just tell her to _go fuck herself_ after a sex marathon. Quinn did try, but she had failed. It ended up backfiring since Rachel withheld from putting out for a few days.

So here was Quinn Fabray watching Rachel Berry put her clothes on at four in the morning. The brunette was about to put her pants when Quinn pulled her back.

"Quinn. Don't. I really have to go and there's nothing left for me here".

"What if I give you a reason to stay?"

"Nothing you say or do will have that impact on me Quinn and you know it. It's just sex and we both agreed to that."

"I remember you not agreeing to that", Quinn snaps, basically asking for Rachel to admit it.

"Yeah. I was a hopeless pathetic back then, but right now I'm just addicted to meaning nothing to you", Rachel says with a crack in her voice.

"I said I was going to be worth your time and I'm not backing down now, Berry. So just lay down and let me make you feel good".

So she just does. Trying to remind what the hell changed from _back then _to _right now._

~ **. a week or a month ago, it doesn't matter.**

Quinn knew she didn't care about Finn, Puck, Sam or any boy that might pursue her. Besides her appearance, which she constantly reminded herself it wasn't even the real her, she didn't think they had an interest in her.

Finn never asked how she was feeling: it was an endless and pointless assumption that everything was fine.

Puck could never maintain a conversation: and it's not like he could kiss either.

Sam was sweet but treated her like a friend: going to the church; babysitting; it got worse when people started asking if they were brothers.

Then there was Rachel. At first, she really was annoyed about the girl, but she didn't know why. After a while it was clear that it was the repressed attraction, but there was also parts of Rachel's personality that she never saw before on anyone else.

Quinn wanted Rachel to cry from all the slushies, the name calling, the boyfriend stealing, all the crap she pulled off. Instead, the brunette had a way of transforming these things into something to keep going.

Rachel was walking towards the bathroom when Quinn decided to act on her feelings. The blonde was shivering, thinking of a way to get what she wanted without really telling the brunette.

She thought of the most pathetic excuse ever and the pain and humiliation that would cause Rachel.

Quinn entered the bathroom right after Rachel and closed the door. The diva was scared of what the cheerleader would to her: what was her vengeance now? No slushies on her hand, surely she wouldn't put her head down the toilets, would she?

"Berry. I want to do something to you, but you must shut the hell up. Also, don't even think about telling this to anyone, because they wouldn't believe anyway", Quinn says very carefully.

The truth is Quinn's nervous as fuck. Rachel senses it, but doesn't say anything because she knows better. The brunette is also curious of what Quinn might do to her.

Quinn slowly approaches Rachel. No longer confused, no longer hesitant. The slow movements are there for a reason and Rachel knows it: it's all about the teasing.

Rachel has always known she's bisexual, so it was no surprise that she was attracted to the blonde – I mean, hello abs.

But to see Quinn physically flirting (is that a thing?) with her, enjoying her time, trying to seduce Rachel so that there's no way for her to deny the cheerleader – Rachel was just feeling the best feeling in the world, which is being wanted by someone you also desire.

Quinn, for the first time, actually looks at Rachel. Eye to eye, she grabs the brunette's hands, slowly intertwining their fingers.

Quinn doesn't remove her eyes from Rachel, while her body starts pressing against the diva. Rachel lets out a small moan and Quinn grins. It's like she knows what she's doing, except she doesn't.

They are both inexperienced here. But Quinn's the one in control, shockingly, since she never admitted having sexual desire whatsoever, especially towards girls and certainly not towards Rachel.

A new Quinn appears, the one that understands Rachel's body so much she is the only one that can make her orgasm. Of course, they both don't know it yet.

While Rachel thinks this is a declaration of some kind – love, passion, lust, whatever –, in the back of Quinn's mind there's something else entirely different going on: it's a fucking mystery how can I be the right person for her, out of all the people in the world.

So of course she runs as fast as she can when she can.

Quinn takes Rachel's hands and holds above her head with one hand. She stills them there, right above the bathroom mirror.

Then she starts assaulting Rachel's body like she wanted for a long time now, every time she was touching herself at night. She did all that for Rachel.

It was pleasurable to her, no doubt about it, but she wanted to practice before touching Rachel for the first time. While their first wasn't romantic, she damn well would please the brunette.

Quinn was leaving small kisses on Rachel's neck, torturing the small girl, while she tried some release – she was panting, arching her body closer to Quinn, but to no success.

Quinn used her legs to spread Rachel's, so that she couldn't even squeeze them for pleasure. Rachel was at Quinn's mercy: hands pinned, legs apart and with Quinn's thighs moving up just enough to give her a jolt of energy, but it wasn't how and where she needed.

The blonde grabs Rachel's earlobe between her teeth and says almost as a whisper: "I'm going to use both of my hands now, but if you move your arms down, you'll wait hours before I make you cum".

No need for that, Rachel thinks. She's already on the edge, anything would make her break. But since she doesn't want to make Quinn mad, she doesn't even consider not obeying.

The cheerleader releases and waits a second, arching an eyebrow as to say: "are you ready for me?".

Rachel doesn't move. Quinn gives a small smile as to approve. Rachel is now aware of something that pleasures the blonde, even if it's a small thing – she keeps taking mental notes, because she will use them at some point.

Quinn takes Rachel's shirt and bra off and brings her to seat on the bathroom counter. "Hold your hands on the counter, use them to steady yourself. Don't touch me or you will be punished", Quinn says dryly.

The only thoughts on Rachel's mind are: how will I be punished and at how fast can I start breaking the rules here.

Quinn spreads the brunette's legs and without removing her skirt or panties starts pressing her fingers against Rachel, in a slow, torturing pace.

While she does that, her other hand is tugging at her hair and exposing her neck further – Quinn's sucking her pulse point and is fucking glorious.

The blonde will leave a mark, but they both don't care. It's all about feeling Quinn everywhere and right now she couldn't give a fuck.

Quinn is massaging her clit, now moving her hand from her hair to her breasts. Rachel knows how sensible they are – she's feeling the cold air around them after all. They are already hard.

Quinn pinches the left nipple and starts sucking on the right one – Rachel almost cums right there. She's losing her mind with want, her breathing erratic, her heart beating as fast as the throbbing pain on her clit.

Quinn's still moving slowly and she's ready to pull some blonde hair and scream: **just fuck me.**

And then it's like Quinn's reading her mind: "what do you want", she says with the same composure as if she was working at McDonald's.

Rachel doesn't even know what the blonde means by that: "what do you mean? It's not like I have been given a choice here, Quinn", she snaps – she wants some release, that's what she wants.

Then suddenly the blonde stops. She looks at her with the most hungry look Rachel's ever seen – the brunette doesn't know if she's mad or horny or doubtful, she's hard to read.

"I mean: do you want me to finger fuck you, eat you out, suck you senseless, go slow, lick your assho…"

"Jesus, Quinn".

"I like doing what I want during foreplay, but the main action is your choice. And don't say things like that to me. It's fucking consensual and you know it".

"I know. I was just surprised by your acts and all your knowledge about the whole subject. How did you learn all that?", Rachel asks still wide eyed.

"I've never been with a girl, but I always knew that's what turned me on. So I researched a lot about it. Which means I'm an expert, in theory. I needed someone to practice with".

"So that's what I am: practice. A fuck toy?".

"I'd say fuck buddy. You're the one that said we are kind of friends", Quinn says with a matter of fact tone.

"Okay", Rachel finally says, almost as a sigh.

"Okay?"

"I want you to fuck me hard. Show me how you don't care about this. If you make me cum fast, I'll consider doing this another time, obviously at another place".

Rachel doesn't remove her eyes from Quinn and tries to see a surprised expression – she doesn't. Again she says to herself: Quinn's hard to read. "And please remove your shirt and bra if you want to continue with our activities".

"Good. This should be easy and quick. You don't have any self control".

"What are you talking about? You're the one ravishing me in the bathroom"

Quinn gets closer to Rachel's ear and says: "I already felt how wet you are for me…" – Rachel gasps – "… and I'm not wearing a bra" – Rachel moans and Quinn removes her shirt.

"Right now, you can see, but you can't touch. So get a good look for your fantasies later. In five minutes you'll be shutting your eyes and screaming my name", Quinn says without hesitation.

And just like that, Quinn starts biting Rachel's nipples while inserting one finger inside. It's torture, but it's so good.

With her other hand, Quinn keeps playing with Rachel's clit, in slow circular moves. Rachel's deep muscles are adjusting to the feeling, moving to meet each thrust done by Quinn.

This is what compatibility whishes to be. It's perfect, like all that tension finally meets its peace. People should write novels about how Quinn's fingers are the one and only match to Rachel's pussy.

Quinn adds another finger without asking, going so deep that Rachel loses all her coherent thoughts. She climaxes and starts falling off the counter, her legs numb.

Rachel thinks this as the pinpoint of her life – there's no leaving now. She needs Quinn in her life, fuck toy or not. And she actually thinks that she can fix Quinn.

Quinn holds Rachel for a few minutes. She then lets go of the brunette's body. Quinn's façade is back on. She looks down at Rachel and says: "I need some time alone. To think. I'll contact you for another try at this".

"You need to be sure if this is good enough? I mean, what else can you possibly want besides me here waiting for you?", Rachel answers.

"I need to think if you'll be able to go through this arrangement or not. I can't do that right now or even today"

"I think I can decide that for myself, Quinn". – Rachel was pissed off. She was accepting anything the blonde was offering just so that she could be closer, but Quinn still had doubts.

"I mean it. I'm all fucked up and I don't want to drag anyone like you into a black hole. There are two things I'm considering here. One: if you can do no strings attached, because that's the way I am and cannot and will not change that. Two: if you'd be willing to try push the limits on the sex. So I'll contact you later when I'm ready".

"Well, it's not like I have a fucking say in this, but if you'd like to consider my opinion, I'm agreeing on both", Rachel answers with her voice a little loud.

"Since I'm the one fucking you, I'll decide if I also want to fuck you up, Rachel. Goodbye".

Thank you for reading. While you wait for the second/final chapter, try listening to Put Your Back N 2 It, by Perfume Genius. I'd also like to give special thanks to carrot-fries, her notes were incredible and helped me a lot.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** The story continues from the flashback bathroom part and then it goes back to the present time (when Quinn and Rachel are together in Quinn's room). For this chapter, I highly recommend Purity Ring's album Shrines, which I am currently obsessed about.

CHAPTER TWO.

Quinn gets out of the bathroom and closes the door with a loud slam. This is actually to remind herself that there's life beyond what just happened. She enters class as if nothing was different – like she didn't get involved with a girl for the first time.

Rachel enters the room a few minutes after, but she's no good at hiding her feelings or expressions at the moment – such a bad actress, Quinn thinks to herself.

Quinn can sense that Rachel is observing her, but the blonde keeps the distance, just taking random notes and drawing patterns when she's bored.

Unconsciously, Quinn starts biting her nails and then freezes. Her hands smell and taste like Rachel. She gives a small lick to one of her fingers and she's suddenly not shy anymore.

Quinn gazes Rachel and it's like a fucking stare competition. Except the brunette loses only seconds after it begins. It's ironic how after all Quinn's done to her, the thing that gets Rachel embarrassed is this moment.

Her cheeks are actually red and she starts looking down, almost as to resign herself that the memories of those minutes in the bathroom were all she had left.

For Quinn, the feeling is quite different: the moment she tastes Rachel, it's like she finally sees something in the world she wants despite of what she is.

And while it scares the shit out of her, she decides she'll deal with that later on and while doing so, she'll continue to sleep with Rachel for how long it takes for her to figure it out.

If she was to describe it in details, tasting Rachel is the same as eating a plum. At least that's how Quinn eats plums: there's the small but forceful bite, then the juices start going down her lips and fingers.

Then there's the sucking so that she can actually savor the flavors, while spreading the piece she has on her mouth all through her teeth and tongue, until she can't wait to have it inside, deeper.

The thing that really aroused Quinn and made her fascinated about Berry's plum is the light sweet that just makes you crazy for more, while never enough and not so sweet that you get sick of it. It's the definition of nectar.

All these thoughts were going through her mind slowly, so slow in fact that she didn't even see the class ending. Right now, Quinn is between frustrated and horny, but she has to weight things down.

While there was plenty of items on the list, both pro and con, the one that decided what she was going to do was: _I will never be able to give her what she wants from me._

So she starts the scheming, the planning. Quinn was never the carpe diem type. She is the psycho-controlling freak that needs things done a certain way.

Quinn would enjoy this for a few weeks, telling herself and Rachel that she could change. It was like she was living, if only for a time, an alternate reality where relationships actually worked for her. But she already knew what she had to do.

**~ . present time.**

She's a coward. She gets the blame. She'd rather end it now herself then putting Rachel through the excruciating experiences of meeting her parents or having to worry about Quinn being homeless.

She'd rather be the asshole that broke up with an amazing girl than being the reason for that girl to not be who she is anymore. Quinn knows Rachel will hate her and probably wonder what she did wrong for the rest of her life.

But at least Rachel would have a life and a future without her spoiling it with all her worries and doubts and fears. She would never ask Rachel to compromise like that. So she just says goodbye – a cold _let me get rid of you _goodbye.

After that, it's the realization of a total loss of self, as pathetic as that sounds. It's the way she's feeling and it's what she'll hang on to for now, because at least is something to remember Rachel by.

This is all going through Quinn's mind after they had sex and Rachel was sleeping. This moment, right here, is what Quinn wishes she could keep forever – and she knows she'll goddam try, even if it's only in her head.

Rachel is nuzzling against her shoulder, smelling her skin and taking deep breaths, like Quinn's smell and pheromones make the perfect formula for her to sleep calmly.

The only thing Quinn could do is watch her, so peaceful. And then she decides to smell Rachel's hair. It's doom, she knows it. A mix of coconut and some citric fruit she can't be sure which.

She decides then to not put this on hold anymore. Quinn needs to end it. She will allow herself to enjoy it until Rachel wakes up.

(…)

The brunette got a little scared when she realized she was wrapped with Quinn. Scared was not the real feeling, though. It was a mix of surprise with insecurity. Because this has had never happened before.

Usually, Quinn would kick her out of bed or Rachel would get so pissed and repent that there wouldn't be an opportunity for her to actually sleep.

The funny thing is that Quinn is behind her and slowly moving her hand through Rachel's hair, unaware that she's awake. Rachel can't stop thinking that if Quinn knew she wasn't sleeping, this would never happen. And she knows it's true.

So Rachel starts moving a little, like she's trying to get more comfortable and pretends to still be asleep. She let's out an almost painful sigh and mumbles something.

The only thing Quinn does after it is saying she's sorry. Both of them don't know whom she's talking to, though.

When Rachel finally decides to turn around and face Quinn, there's no doubt that this is the end.

"We need to talk", Quinn starts slowly but decisively.

"Yeah, I know, Quinn. I already know what you're doing here. So let's just save ourselves the trouble, shall we?".

"Well, I know I've said a lot of things to you. And that you think I probably didn't mean any of them. I just wanted to be clear that you'll never understand how hard it is for me to do it".

Rachel licks her lips and stares Quinn for a moment, hoping there's a continuation. But it's just this. Vague explanations that she'll probably lose every hour of her life thinking about.

"That's it? You're not calling me names, say I'm not worth it or anything like that?", Rachel starts her defiance. She prays it will work to get something out of the blonde girl.

"Nothing I say will satisfy you, Rachel. So I'll just say what comes to mind, okay? The thing is I have deep feelings for you. But I don't know how to deal with them. And quite frankly, I can't accept that someone would have the same kind of feelings towards me. I can't accept it, because I don't have any of them for me either".

Rachel loses her power of speech. She had sensed all of this before, but this was Quinn saying it out loud.

"Do you think this would ever work?", Rachel asks.

Quinn starts thinking about it; what to answer. The sensation is that maybe hours passed by, but it takes a few minutes. Quinn pictures them as a happy couple – the things she wishes she could do.

A few of them are: just lay on the couch while watching TV shows and talking about them, sleep while cuddling, cooking together, traveling, exchanging gifts. Quinn wanted all that.

But there's always a but. Like what if those things are not enough? Quinn thinks one day she should go into therapy and discover what the hell is wrong with her – something between an inability to enjoy things and an anxiety on levels that could ruin anything.

On relationships, specifically, Quinn had no experience, but there was strange feelings that made her fear everything related.

Investing on someone could be stressful – and giving that trouble to someone else? Even worse. After a while she just gave up all together. She had found the one, though.

She just wasn't good enough to keep her. Memories. That's all she would have left. And one day, maybe, Rachel would understand. She could write a letter – people were always complimenting her writing skills.

"I think it would have worked if I was a better person", it's all she could think to answer. Rachel didn't even try to reply because she knew it was a lost war.

~~~ _But I didn't understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair_ ~~~

**~ years later** (Rachel is living in New York, never heard of Quinn again after graduation).

Rachel is now used with her daily routine, her long Broadway rehearsal hours. She practically lives there and crashes at a friend's place, who lives nearby the theater.

Since she refused to come back to Ohio and made her parents visit her in New York, they decided it was best for them to also move to the Big Apple. Hiram and Leroy went back sometimes to visit relatives there.

After one of those trips, they came with a postal card from Canada addressed to Rachel. It said:

_I wrote a letter once, it was 8 pages long. I kept repeating the same thing, even if the words were different. I decided to give you (and maybe myself) some closure._

_You were my first everything and I was too young and stupid to deal with it. I wish you happiness and success. Sometimes I think my screw-ups with you only happened so that you could see how great you are and what you could accomplish. If that's the truth, I can be satisfied with my existence._

_p.s.: every time I watch Wicked, it reminds me of you. I watch it once a week._

_Your (kind of?) friend,_

_Q._

**A/N:** I do realize there are a lot of loose ends here, especially as to mentioning aspects of the characters and explaining their behavior. However, as a first fanfiction experience and since this file is archived for a long time, I just wanted to publish it instead of wondering forever how to twitch the story.

After reading it (and for any other time, really), I'd recommend the new album by How To Dress Well, entitled Total Loss.

The "But I didn't understand …" quote is from one of my favorite authors, Haruki Murakami

Thank you for your time and hope you enjoyed it. I plan on writing something with more character depth soon. Any observations and critics will be welcomed.


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